Saving Snape
by Pepper Girl-Ivie
Summary: Hermione finds a way to turn back time and save Snape from Nagini's fatal bite. But first, she has to pose as his wife and a double agent. Will the Dark Lord trust her? Will the couple trudge through the Last Battle untouched? Rated M for partial content.
1. Disclaimer

Hello all.

I have spent quite remarkable amount of time on this tale.

Quite obviously, this is a HGSS fiction, in other words a Hermione Grange-Severus Snape romance.

It is rated M for little explicit content, though by skipping through the dirty parts it won't delay your catching on the plot. Yeah, I shall make the words here short and sweet.

I promise this will be meaningful.

I don't own any character, and I would like to acknowledge KrazyGlued for her content on the first few chapters of my story. Thanks, KrazyGlued.

Hope all of you enjoy.


	2. Home at Last

_Time flew by after the down fall of Tom Marvolo Riddle. The wizarding world was regrouping and recuperating the loss in the past two decades. Flowers on graves have long since withered; sorrowful tears that fell on graves have dried and seeped in the cold, hard stone. But those who have seen death in the eye still wore the veil of mourning, futilely forgetting the name Voldemort, the dark despot, the nightmare to the wizarding world. _

_For Hermione Granger, on the contrary, those dark years were etched to her eternally, for it was her adolescence she gave fighting the dark lord along side her friends Ron Weasley and the legendary Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. The past decade was a blur of struggles and unwavering will, which gave rise to the most preeminent times of Hermione's life. _

_The cleverest witch of her time then took over the vacant Potions Professor position at Hogwarts. Minerva McGonagall, having recognized the witch's thirst for knowledge, offered the freshly graduated Hermione Granger the job that Severus Snape, one exceptional Potions Master, held before his untimely demise. Hermione was given lodging, books and the opportunity to further her inquisitive nature in Hogwarts. More than willingly, she obliged._

_Her relationship with Ron Weasley turned out unsuccessful soon after the war. It seemed like sibling-love, for Hermione had always seen Ron as a comforting and humorous friend. Ron was desperate to bind the witch into a strictly domestic life, cooking and looking after a dozen redheads, much like Molly. He had even drawn up a plan for a house to be constructed near The Burrow. This resulted in a heated spar between the couple, where Ron "reasoned" in vain to an immovable Hermione. Finally, both decided separation and fresh air would do both good, and Hermione sought refuge at Hogwarts' castle. _

_Little over a month after the dispute, Hermione and Ron decided that it would be best to remain friends, rather than pursue a strained relationship. With Voldemort's finish, Hermione and Ron suddenly were thrown into normality, and their conflicting interests ended up winning over their emotions. It was just not meant to be._

Our story begins here, with a newly appointed Potions Mistress, Hermione Granger, riding on the Hogwarts Express.

The witch, seated in a unoccupied cubicle, took in the scenery with great interest; the way Britain had appeared from a faraway view, with all its tall towers; the way birds roaming the clear blue sky had vanished behind the bulging white clouds venturing unhurriedly across the blue.

_I wonder if I look half as bad as Professor Lupin looked, when he was sitting on this exact spot__, _Hermione pondered, remembering her first meeting with her former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, with his worn appearance and thread bare robes.

_I wonder how all of them are. Fred, Tonks, Lupin, Moody, Sirius, and… and Snape, _she bit her lip at the last name that crossed her mind.

'Severus Snape was her potions teacher for a full six years and later becoming Headmaster of Hogwarts when Voldemort reigned supreme in the wizarding world. She rarely doubted her Potions Master, no matter how much suspicions had been hurled at him by Ron and Harry. She had qualms on her trust, however, when Harry had seen Snape murder Dumbledore. But soon, it became evident that Severus Snape had been loyally serving the light side when he had given Harry his memories, which later led to the successful defeat of Lord Voldemort.

_I wish I could have at least saved you, _Hermione whispered and dabbed at the tears which brimmed in her eyes and the memory of Nagini sinking her fangs in Snape unfolded itself. Feeling the final lurch of the Hogwarts express and ignoring the fact that she was in her compartment by herself just like her first hour on the Hogwarts Express, she beamed brightly.

"Home at last."


	3. Hogwarts

The grounds of Hogwarts had been very much similar to Hermione's recollection of it. The similar magnificent iron gates, the Whomping Willow swaying with the wind, the magical green grass on the wide Quidditch pitch and the splendid clock tower with the hour-glasses recording house points. She could also glimpse Hagrid's smoking hut from the distance away, a reminiscent of her previous adventures with Ron and Harry under the Invisibility Cloak, trudging up to his cabin; this caused something to stir at the back of her mind, something which she was sure looked uncannily like a giant dragon egg in a kettle.

"Miss Granger!"

Hermione whirled round to find Minerva McGonagall hurrying towards her across the field.

"Professor McGonagall," Hermione greeted as she broke into a wide smile and embraced the professor, who was wearing dark green robes.

"You are, after all, part of the faculty of Hogwarts now, dear girl, so call me Minerva, Hermione," Minerva McGonagall locked her gaze fondly at the witch in her arms.

"Minerva," Hermione echoed, and tittered. "It feels weird calling you by your name, Professor."

"You'll get use to it. Come, we need to get to the Great Hall; there's Sorting to be done."

Hermione followed suit. Students skittered out of the way as the two witches cantered down the gravel path towards the Great Hall, and a few pointed eagerly to Hermione and whispered to their friends, gesticulating animatedly to them. Hermione caught a few hushed voices and she swept passed the students.

"Look, isn't that Hermione Granger?"

"Who is she?"

"She's Harry Potter's friend, you know. Harry Potter, the boy who defeated the You-Know-Who! I can't believe you don't know her, Carter. I've read _The Wizarding World: A History_ and _The Legendary Golden Trio!_ She's amazing, isn't she?" the girl breathed in wonder.

"Well, if you say so," the boy answered distractedly, stuffing a few Dr. Filibuster's Wet Start, No Heat Fireworks into his rucksack, one item Hermione knew was prohibited in Hogwarts.

Hermione felt the corners of her mouth twitching as she remembered two certain redheaded twins she caught in a secluded corridor doing the very same thing during her fifth year when she was patrolling around the school as a Prefect.

She entered into the castle and ascended the stairs, feeling the cold temperature of the castle and hearing the incessant, thrilled babble of the students. Smiling, she walked up the dais and sat at the old spot of Severus Snape, feeling another pang of grief. She drained all of the pumpkin juice, realising how thirsty she was, and with a flick of her wand, refilled the goblet.

Dumbledore, as always, was perched on the high chair in the middle of the long stretch of golden table, watching the students in the Great Hall with his prominent twinkle in the eyes. He had been revived shortly after the war, by Harry who used the charm he had learnt from Snape's memories.

Minerva McGonagall now entered the Great Hall, holding the frayed Sorting Hat and placing it carefully on the three-legged stool. The chatter slowly subsided, and the Hat opened its mouth to sing.

_We have seen the worst come through,  
all of Hogwart's different hue.  
Now here sits the daughter and son,  
of previous Hogwarts; united as one.  
Slip me snug above your ears,  
no more doubt, no more fears.  
I will tell where you belong:  
Gryffindor where bravery dwell,  
Ravenclaw where wit does tell.  
Hupplepuff where loyalty counts,  
Slytherin where trickery mounts._

_Now that my song is half done,  
there will be a selected one.  
Sent to swirl back in the past,  
revive the brave serpent; correct his cast.  
The Lioness and Serpent will then link,  
save the catastrophe from its brink.  
One chance, one odd and one end,  
choose carefully the choice to fend.  
_

There was silence for a brief moment, bewilderment and puzzlement flicked across every student's face. Slowly, the cacophony of murmurings increased, and the Great Hall broke out in tumultuous applause. Minerva McGonagall conjured a larch roll of parchment, and started reading names off it.

"Attering, Brian."

A boy with bronze coloured hair stumbled forward and scrambled up the stool, lifting the hat and slipping it on his head and the hat dropped a few inches lower, covering his eyes.

"Gryffindor!"

Gryffindor gave an earsplitting ovation for their new member, and Brian Attering hurried down the stool; in his frenzied motions, fell face-first onto the marble floor, and Hermione, who had been watching the petite boy closely, hurried to pull out her wand to turn a big patch of the floor into a cushioned dent on the floor.

The boy turned a furious shade of scarlet as he stood up from the cushions and scurried towards the Gryffindor table where some of the older students thumped him lightly on the back. Hermione smiled slightly, Transfigured the floor back to marble and kept her wand. Some people stared, impressed at her, while most of her previous teachers nodded their heads, and smiled at Hermione. Hermione beamed.

After two Hupplepuffs, two consecutive Slytherins, and Terry Finnigan, Seamus Finnigan's son, were sorted, Hermione heard a familiar but most astonishing name.

"Potter, James."

The Great Hall fell completely still, as a boy with jet black hair trudged forward to the stool, his face a little pale. _He looked like a complete replica of Harry,_ Hermione mused.

The young wizard lifted the hat and was about to put the hat on his head when it yelled, "Gryffindor!"

The whole of Gryffindor rose to give Harry Potter's offspring a standing ovation as he skipped to join Brian Attering.

"We got Potter's son! We've got a Potter!" a wizard with conspicuous red hair cheered.

_A Weasley_, Hermione grinned. _Bill Weasley's son, in fact_.

Hannah Gladys came next, classified into Ravenclaw and Hermione heard another astounding name for the second time.

"Candara Malfoy!"

A girl with sleek blonde hair pulled into a French braid approached the Sorting Hat confidently. Hermione's eyes sparkled with interest.

"Slytherin!"

The Hat declared, even when it had barely reached the girl's head. Smirking smugly, she strode to the Slytherin table with her nose in the air.

_A recognisable Malfoy all right, _Hermione sighed.

After Melanie Zallers had been sorted into Ravenclaw, Minerva McGonagall levitated the Hat across the Great Hall where it zoomed out of sight.

The clinking of the golden goblet was heard, and the students fell silent again.

"My usual two words: tuck in," Dumbledore spoke, beaming down at the wizards and witches seated.

The golden plates and bowls filled itself miraculously, and Hermione saw that her plate had filed itself with creamed spaghetti accompanied by shredded chicken. Feeling immensely ravenous all of a sudden, she started devouring the food enthusiastically.

Once dessert, chilled apple pie, was served, Dumbledore cleared his throat. The persistent chatter soon subsided into hushes and dissolved into nothingness. The Great Hall was quiet again.

"Our new Potions Mistress, Professor Hermione Granger." Dumbledore announced cheerfully and shifted himself so he was looking at Hermione. The students, most of them wearing welcoming smiles, began on their eager murmurs again whilst applauding for Hermione. Hermione stood up and bowed, after which she glanced at Candara Malfoy and caught her muttering something into her companion's ear with a nasty smirk on her face.

Something which sounded, from interpretation of lip movement, very much like _Mudblood._

Hermione let out an exasperated groan. _Chip of an old block, Candara Malfoy was._

Dumbledore clapped his hands, waited for the noise to fall, and continued. "Mr. Filch would like to remind the students (here, Filch, who had been lurking around the corners of the Great Hall, scowled darkly), for the eight hundred and seventy-fifth time, to examine the list of forbidden items, which is pasted on his office door. Some of these items consists of a very fine set of Dr. Filibuster's Wet Start, No Heat fireworks and all Weasley's Wizards Wheezes products, which in my opinion, are rather fine products of magic," Dumbledore broke of in a chuckle as McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Excuse me, now where was I? Ah, yes. Quidditch matches would take place as usual this year, and it is of great importance that I represent Mr. Filch, again, to remind you, that underage students are not allowed Hogsmeade visits, and if any student creeps out of the gates without consent, you will have a very fine surprise waiting for you. Right, all of you, off to bed!" Dumbledore waved his hands and Prefects began to gather the first years as other students headed for the dormitories.

Hermione stood up from her chair and descended from the raised platform, looking everywhere around the Great Hall, from the enchanted ceiling (which was a starry deep blue today) and the House Tables; from the dais to the double-door entrance of the hall. Tears filled her eyes again and the image if the Great Hall turned bleary.

_I am home._


	4. Futile Decipherings

Hermione ascended the shifting stairway slowly, glancing at everywhere of the castle: its stone walls, the fire flickering calmly on the torches, the ghosts flitting in and out of the empty classrooms, the Prefect's bathrooms, Moaning Myrtle's toilet, the Astronomy Tower which had an impeccable view of the entire school ground being the tallest structure of Hogwarts.

Soon, she found herself standing before the Fat Lady's Portrait, who looked at her and gasped, "Why, isn't it the bushy-haired girl I used to let in many years ago!"

Hermione glowered a little when she heard the term "bushy-haired girl". Indeed, she used to have untamed, thick tresses, but as she matured, her hair altered itself to become lustrous, shiny locks of delicate curls that shone a honey-brown and hung over her shoulders now.

"Password?"

"Er, Madam (here, the Fat Lady beamed down at her), I am now a professor here."

"Oh? Then it is true! Violet!" the Fat Lady plodded past the frame of her portrait and returned with another plump lady wearing a mauve-coloured dress.

"Oh, this is the one I told you, the Granger girl! Potter's best friend!" the lady called Violet now smoothed her dress and addressed Hermione graciously. _Too_ graciously, in fact.

"Hello," Hermione returned the greeting uncertainly.

"Do you want to enter?" Violet inquired, now trying to push the Fat Lady aside to settle in the centre of the portrait. A muffled, angry "Vi!" came from the right side of the frame.

"No, not really. You should probably ask for the password before letting anyone enter," Hermione added as she bit her lip.

"Of course, Madam."

"Then I expect I should be going now. Good night!" Hermione started down the steps before any of the portrait figures uttered anything and headed towards the dungeons, her new quarters.

A familiar blast of cold air hit her the moment she stepped through the "boundaries of Snape", as it was often called by Hogwarts students. They had segregated the dungeons from other classrooms, and when in proximity of the cold dungeons, they would call in the "boundaries of Snape". As much as it was amusing for find exceptional Muggle Geography talent in each new horde of young wizards and witches, Hermione found it rather insulting and rude.

Hermione continued down the corridor until she found the well-known and avoided rectangular wooden door. It was the door that contained the flight of ten steps (Hermione remembered the number of steps since Ron had always joked that those were the "ten steps to Hell") that lead to the dungeons. Pulling on the handle, she found it would not budge. There was no latch or lock bolting the door; hence it must be magically warded.

Obviously, Severus Snape had no intentions of permitting the intruders.

_And obviously, he must have set some intricate wards since she could not feel any resistance,_ Hermione decided.

The wards had encroached Hermione's next thirty minutes as she tried prying the door away using magic fruitlessly. Even the enchanted Swiss Knife she was given by Lupin on her seventeenth birthday failed to weaken the invisible protection that bound to the door. Finally, at eleven in the night, she found herself rooted in front of the stone gargoyles (Hermione had no idea wha the password was), explaining in dismay her "emergency" to the unmoving statures of the gargoyles, glaring steadily at her.

Just as she was about stomp off, she heard an incredulous voice brushing past her ears; one that she never dreamed she would hear in her lifetime ever again.

"Think, Miss Granger, of the most ridiculous items you can think of," the voice drawled in his silken tone, and when Hermione whirled around so fast that her neck let out a protesting crick, she found no one behind her.

Even when she had expected to see a wizard dressed in black, billowing robes with a large, hooked nose and greasy hair hanging down the sides of his face.

That was Snape's voice.

Hermione felt her heart pounding wildly onto her ribcage, and she darted her eyes over her surroundings; the gargoyle, the office entrance; the empty corridor with its marble flooring…

There was still no Potions Professor striding towards her wearing his trademark sneer.

In spite of her frantic self, she felt her heart sink.

_Where had that voice come from?_

For the first time, the Gryffindor know-it-all had no answer.

She decided to ponder over the advice given, if it was really an advice after all.

_Ridiculous things? But how does that relate to Dumbledore?_

And as if on cue, something flashed across her mind again. Something that sounded very much like Harry telling following Professor McGonagall, being summoned to the Headmaster's Office after a Basilisk attack, something that sounded like "Sherbet Lemons" as Harry recounted the meeting with Dumbledore.

Suddenly, everything became crystal clear.

"Okay, here goes," Hermione muttered to herself, closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath.

"Sherbet Lemons?"

Still the beady-eyed frown on the gargoyles' faces

"Lemon Drops?"

Nothing happened.

"Fine, fine! You could go ask Ron and Fred and George; they're much better at these things than I am! Cockroach Clusters! Cauldron Cakes! Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans! Spicy Lozenges! Sugar Quills! Chocolate Fro–" Hermione blinked and gaped at the gargoyles as it sprang to life and spiraled upwards, revealing stone steps. She quickly stepped on one of them.

"Sugar Quills? But... but I was only joking," Hermione muttered to herself, appalled.

The spiraling stopped, and Hermione took two steps forward. She stood before the door to Dumbledore's office, marveling at the beauty of the wooden door which seemed to sparkle under the soft light that came from a lamp that hung on the ceiling above Hermione.

The door swung open as Hermione raised her hand to knock it. She jumped.

"I was under the impression you needed to see me, Hermione. Please come in," Dumbledore said, with a benign smile and the very same twinkle in his eyes.

"Headmaster, oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" Hermione stuttered as she slowly entered the office.

"Take a seat, Hermione. Is there anything wrong?"

But Hermione did not answer. She gasped as she caught sight of a certain black-robed wizard, famous for his snarky personality and snide remarks, together with his hooked nose and the usual sneer.

"Miss Granger," the man in the portrait greeted in a velvet tone.

Hermione continued to stare, with her jaws dropped at her former Potions Master.

"Yes, this is Severus, Hermione. Although I say he hasn't changed much," Dumbledore waved his hand casually at the portrait and straightened it unnecessarily (Snape scowled blackly), his beard twitching.

"Miss Granger, I presume Potter and Weasley have never reminded you, that staring is rude?"

"Oh, sorry Professor… I… I never thought I would… see you again, Professor," Hermione finished in a rush, still gazing at her former Potions Master in awe.

"I am not Potter, and I refuse to be worshipped, Miss Granger!" Snape snapped.

Hermione gave a start and was jolted back to her senses.

"Well, Hermione? What brings you here at this hour?" Dumbledore continued, his beard visibly quivering now.

"I couldn't…" Hermione broke off, phrasing her words carefully to avoid mentioning her new status as Potions Mistress.

"I couldn't remove the wards of my quarters, Headmaster."

"Ah, no doubt Severus would have placed unbreakable, complex wards on his quarters. Come now, I can dissolve them."

"Wait, Albus. This girl is the next Potions Mistress," Snape hissed malevolently.

"Well, Severus, you can't expect me to be teaching Potions forever. Besides, Hermione has the most amazing grades, Severus, I don't see why not," Dumbledore replied innocently.

Hermione had been wondering if Snape looked phony, being trapped in a portrait. True, there were many other portraits he could go occupy, but she knew that Snape was not a man who fancied attention, so staying in Dumbledore's portrait seemed most likely for him. But being only able to move around in a portrait was so much different than the former Severus Snape, since he was, no truer than the words spoke, the unconventional bat of the dungeons.

As she followed Dumbledore out of his office, she heard a soft sneer, just low enough for her to hear in fact.

"Insufferable know-it-all."

_Oh, Snape's real, all right,_ Hermione scoffed, glowering as she exited the office and spiraled downwards on the stone steps.

**********************************************************

Together, she and Dumbledore descended the shifting stairway towards the dungeons.

"Hermione, would you be so kind as to answer my question?"

"No problem, Headmaster," Hermione replied, glancing curiously at the bearded wizard.

"Do you understand what the tune the Hat sung means?"

Hermione blinked. She hadn't expected this question and to be frank, she was befuddled by the song as well.

"I guess I don't. No, I mean I do understand the words, but the depth of the complete grasp is only about surface level. The Hat introduced Hogwarts like always, but later, I think it referred to a Slytherin and Gryffindor. Something like someone would be chosen to travel in time, and correct what was a mistake before, and in the process, save a life. And that there is only one opportunity given to the… protagonist, I suppose. But other than that, I am clueless," Hermione admitted wistfully.

Dumbledore nodded.

"Very accurate, Hermione. This is exactly what it means."

"Do you have any idea who this refers to?" Hermione probed on, keyed up.

"The truth will prevail soon, Hermione. I suggest we wait, and see."

Hermione shrugged nonchalantly. She couldn't expect Dumbledore to know everything. Still, a nagging conviction irked her; the very thought that Dumbledore was concealing something from her. _Something concerning you,_ the voice declared. It took Hermione everything to push it to the back of the mind when they arrived at the wooden door after walking in comfortable silence.

Dumbledore drew his wand, touched the door and revealed an emblazoned a golden circle on the door. He touched the circle with his wand tip and the door flew open.

"Severus has personalized the wards, so that besides him, I can also enter. I am very sorry to have held up your night, Hermione."

"Don't mention it, Headmaster."

Dumbledore fumbled for something in his pocket, unraveled the wrapper and popped it into his mouth before Vanishing the wrapper.

"Delicious as always… Lemon drops, Hermione?" Dumbledore fished a yellow sweet out of his pocket again and dropped it into Hermione's palms before giving her a wink and strode away.

Hermione stared, bemused by the old wizard before she too, popped the sweet into her mouth and Vanished the wrapper. Closing the door and restructuring the wards, she sucked hard at the sweet in her mouth.

If she was right about anything, it was two things.

First, Dumbledore was hiding something from her.

Secondly, and she would do everything to prove this, that old man was _right_ about everything.


	5. Meeting Snape

Descending the last few steps slowly, Hermione scanned the classroom. The cold stone floor, the stools, the tables each with a cauldron beside it; the rectangular blackboard propped up on wooden sticks, and the teacher's desk positioned in front of the classroom. Everything was in good condition and tidily arranged.

She could recall herself circumspectly adding ingredients to the potions, reading instructions carefully off the large blackboard and murmuring advice to a fear-struck Neville fervently.

But she was reminded most of her former Potions Professor; his malicious remarks, unpleasant sneer and his billowing black robes. Everything of this classroom was reminiscent of Severus Snape.

Hermione strolled around the dark classroom. Besides the lamp that was magically hovering on the ceiling and the fireplace (which never burnt before), there was no trace of light. Frowning, she treaded carefully to the teacher's desk and lit the lamp, which gave the room a dim, eerie glow.

She waved her wand the second time. The light flickered and remained unchanged.

"Is it so wrong to get some light?" Hermione fumed.

She chewed on her lower lip, her brain whirring away to find a spell that would light the room preferably. Finally, with a pleased snap of her fingers, she drew her wand and twirled it in a complicated pattern, and with a flourish, the room now had two glass windows that stretched from the ceiling to the floor; a metal grille and a curtain was then attached to each window.

"Beautiful, just like a fairy tale," Hermione beamed and leaned back against the table as she watched as the gentle moonlight shone through the windows. The view might be magically created, but it was certainly enchanting and breathtaking.

Hermione whirled around and sauntered behind the teacher's desk. There were two doors, both black in colour. Hermione tried the handle. It didn't move.

"Oh really, Professor Snape didn't have to ward everything, did he?"

Hermione chose the right door, exhaled heavily and pulled out her wand.

"Okay. Alohomora?"

To her utmost surprise, the door clicked open.

Hermione's jaws dropped as she looked around the room. She had found Snape's private labs. There were two cauldrons positioned beside the glass tabletop which stretched three quarters across the laboratory. A wooden shelf about three feet tall leaned against the left wall from where Hermione stood. Each rack on the shelf had about five labeled vials, each filled with a different potion.

Hermione picked one vial up and examined the thick liquid inside. It was a deep dark yellow colour and there were bubbles visible inside the potion. She gasped.

"Merlin's pants! I've read this from _Moste Potente Potions;_ it's the Elixir of Luminosity! How did he obtain the Dragon bones? And the Moonwater!"

And sure enough, when Hermione turned the vial, there was the neat inscription: _Elixir of Luminosity, S.S_.

_This man is so maddeningly amazing,_ Hermione breathed as she exited the room and securely warded the lab.

She turned to the left door, which was identical to the other with the same black shade and the cold, metal knob.

"Alohomora," Hermione commanded and the door swung open. There was another set of stairs.

_Professor Snape certainly adored stairs_, Hermione cursed as she started up the first few steps.

A blank wall faced Hermione when she ascended the stairway completely.

Hermione scowled.

She drew her wand and tapped the wall.

Nothing happened.

Frowning, she tapped the wall again and muttered "Revelio".

A door materialised and slid open in front of Hermione's very astonished amber orbs.

This was Severus Snape's chambers.

**********************************************************

Hermione knew, from the very instant, this was where Snape lived, because of the Slytherin green around her.

But she as she entered the room, it then dawned on her why she still remained so alarmed.

Severus Snape didn't strike her as the type who would get a fireplace (except for Floo purposes), a deep blue carpet, a mahogany desktop, a snug and cozy couch the colour of sea blue, nor did Hermione ever imagine the Professor would purchase a blue beanbag chair or a set of old-English dining table with two chairs.

She couldn't help but allow her mouth remain in the shape of an "O" while she gawked at the warm, enthralling atmosphere.

There were two wooden doors located at the back of, Hermione supposed, the living room. She entered the one on her extreme left.

Shelves and shelves of books appeared in front of Hermione, each rack piled with books ranging from dusty, ancient tomes to modernised versions of paperbacks. Hermione was taken aback by the numerous volumes arranged neatly and in impeccable conditions.

Hermione's eyes glazed over. She was certain the Potions Master had shared her unquenched hunger for knowledge.

It took Hermione everything to resist the alluring urge that egged her on in slipping _Potent Potions_ (the spine had recorded) from the shelves and bury her nose in it. _The library will wait,_ she repeated to herself firmly.

With a last, contemplative glance, she exited the room and approached the next one.

Pushing the door open, the sight she was met with sent her jaws dropping for the third time that night. There was a large bed that emitted a soft, alluring look. There was also another shelf (Hermione's eyes sparkled) with three rows all loaded with hardbacks. A nightstand was positioned beside the bed, and a wardrobe with frosted glass sliding doors stood on the left side of the room. There was also a small wooden desktop with a well-cushioned chair and a dresser situated near it.

Her two luggages were placed neatly at the foot of the bed. She unzipped it, expecting to find her belongings scandalously dumped inside. She was wrong. The luggage was empty.

Frowning, she stepped to the wardrobe and slid the glass door open. Her robes and dresses were hung without a single crease. She eyed the racks gleefully as she saw her muggle tops all folded efficiently. She opened one of the drawers attached and found her undergarments assembled according to colours.

_Where are my books then?_ Hermione scanned the bedroom.

A pile of books arranged on the wooden desk answered her question.

Hermione beamed at the empty, furnished room.

This was so much better than her former large suite, where most of her possessions were strewn reprehensibly across the apartment, since Hermione was not a domestic type and loathed cleaning.

"This must be the work of a house-elf," Hermione muttered with certainty. She decided to summon the elf and thank it.

"Er… Hello, house-elf? Could you… come for a moment? I have… something to say to you," Hermione called apprehensively.

A loud _crack_ told Hermione the house-elf was here.

"Miss," the house-elf greeted and bowed, its long nose touching the (Hermione noted with awe) marble floor. "Is there anythings Geri can do for you, miss?"

"No, Geri. I just want to… thank you for unpacking my items."

"No problems, miss. Geri must do that as house-elf, miss. I will serve you pumpkin juice now, miss," the house-elf replied and revealed a toothy smile, his ears wriggling and with another _crack,_ it was gone.

Hermione smiled after Geri.

She studied every part of the room once more, focusing on the bed at last.

The duvet was of a simple silver-green mix, and the bedspread was white. Unadorned and austere.

Very _Snape-like, _in fact.

She had to defy the maddening temptation to jump onto the soft bed and throw herself lazily onto the pillows.

Hermione stepped out of the bedroom, immensely satisfied.

She scrutinised the entire lodging again.

She still felt stunned. She hadn't been expecting putrid underground caverns, but certainly not posh, pleasing environments.

She was deeply enamored of the fine setting.

And Hermione Granger found she could live with this.

**********************************************************

Hermione stepped out of the bathtub, satiated from the steaming bath. She draped her house robe limply around herself, and sat on the edge of the bed, sipping some sweet grape wine as she poured over _Potions for the Poisoned. _The pumpkin juice Geri had brought her was not enough to alleviate her dry throat. Sometimes, Hermione was just not the witch who would bother hydrating herself when she was up to something… crucial.

She imbibed half the glass of wine and shook the thin, crimson liquid inside, smirking when she thought of Snape's possible reaction if he found her drinking his wine. _Well, he left it in the mantelpiece by the fireplace and there was not one warning that stated I couldn't drink them, _Hermione retorted mentally with an impish grin, but faltered when she was reminded of the cruel, chilling truth with a pang.

Severus Snape wouldn't lash out at her. He couldn't even appear.

She decided it was time for slumber when her muggle watch strapped to her wrists told her it was way past midnight.

She'd enjoy the rest of Snape's chambers the next day. After all, her teaching position was secure and she had no intentions of walking out of Hogwarts, though there are many institutions and corporations who were keen to employ her. _With binding magical contracts and patents over everything I create,_ Hermione folded her arms irritably as she recounted the numerous owls that broke in and preened her hair till she gave a reply.

_Not to mention the mess of owl droppings I had to clear up later._

With that, Hermione scourgified her wine glass and flicked her wand which sent it soaring back in place. She released the ribbon holding her robe slightly for comfort during her sleep.

Climbing under the covers and wrapping herself tightly with it, she pointed her wand and tilted it slowly. The chandelier lights dimmed before it vanished in a second.

With the accommodating attributes of the bed, steady breathing from an unmoving form of the unconscious Hermione could be heard soon after.

**********************************************************

"Miss Granger," someone purred at her.

Hermione's eyes widened in bewilderment. She would recognize that velvet tone anywhere.

"Professor Snape?" she called and turned guardedly.

Hermione found that she was wearing muggle clothing; an orange shirt, her favourite purple jacket and black jeans.

The place she was stranded in was very sinister and ominous. Not to mention the lack of light. As Hermione's eyes adjusted to the darkness, she found that she was in a tunnel like hole, with blackness that occupied the front and back way portentously.

A figure was advancing on her.

She fumbled in her pocket for her dark brown wand.

It wasn't there.

Hermione's brow furrowed as she searched for that stick, then it slowly dawned on her that she had left it on her nightstand.

_Is this a dream?_

Hermione narrowed her eyes as she searched pointlessly for a source to prove this was a figment of imagination; her brain whirring selflessly through the night.

It was still rigid, total blackness that met her sight.

_This isn't good._

"Miss Granger," the voice breathed and when Hermione whirled round, she found herself facing the deceased Potions Master, their face and body inches apart.

Hermione felt something under her belly. She didn't know what, since she was too busy sweeping her eyes over the figure that stood before her.

The very same Potions master.

Her jaws dropped for the umpteenth time.

"How many times, Miss Granger, must I tell you _not_ to gape at others?"

_Still that testy personality; it's really him._

Hermione's knees nearly gave in; she flailed her hands out desperately and compromised by staggering a few steps backwards. Snape grabbed her arms just in time.

He smirked.

Hermione glared balefully back.

"Miss Granger, I must say the hundred pounds of books weighing on your sling bag for the six years I taught you failed to improve your sense of balance," he sneered.

"What do you want?" Hermione snapped.

"Dear, dear, Miss Granger. I expect you, to maintain a manner of respect in front of me since I am, after all, your Professor no matter how much condemned. Still that little spitfire…" Snape shook his head in mock resignation.

Before Hermione could retort back, he lowered his silky, irresistible tone.

"Wake up, Miss Granger. You will find me in the portrait hung in my rooms. I have… essential things to tell you."

"But why should I…" Hermione faltered when she started plunging downwards, her limbs and joints firmly locked to place.

Hermione let out a choked shriek as she plummeted drastically and she opened her eyes in shock to find herself tangled in the sheets, a sheen of perspiration forming on her forehead.

She scanned the room warily.

She had most definitely _not_ pictured Snape. He was real, and concrete as anything, for he had touched her.

And this, she suddenly remembered, had brought the most electrifying current on.

_It's probably because of his cold temperature in his dead body; he's a living iceberg! Character and temperature-wise,_ Hermione fumed.

She sat up on the bed.

_And what am I supposed to do now?_

"Miss Granger."

Hermione gasped, seized her wand instantly and murmured, "Homenum Revelio."

A misty screen flew into the air, and she caught a clear view through the rectangular fog. But there was no one.

Hermione lowered her wand warily, despite her knowing that no concealment can escape this charm.

She was momentarily puzzled, until her mind, somehow, replayed the voice.

Only then did she notice the ostentatious, languid drawl of that greeting.

She froze.

There could only be one person she knew in her whole lifetime who owned that silken, overwhelming voice.

A certain snarky professor who had been taunting her since her first year and never hesitating to deduct a million points from Gryffindor.

She aimed her wand at the chandelier and jerked it slightly. The lights came on.

And that was when she noticed the splendid golden sides framing a picture with a red background.

The clear illustration of Severus Snape filled her sight.

Hermione groaned inwardly.

_This is no good, _these words darted across her mind playfully and repeatedly. _Why hadn't I notice this earlier on?"_

"Miss Granger, you might want to tighten the knot of robe you are clad in before you make an unfounded accusation of me callously roaming my eyes over your stark form," Severus Snape raised one perfectly arched eyebrow.

Hermione flushed furiously and wrapped the white house robe over herself and made an over-exaggerated attempt to knot the ribbon located at her chest area forcefully. She broke out in a coughing fit when she tried breathing.

Exasperated, she drew her wand and muttered, "Relashio."

The ribbon released itself and formed a more secure knot when the wand was flicked the second time without choking Hermione.

Hermione coloured up even more intensely now as she reluctantly met the cynical stare of her former Potions Professor.

"If I expected any change from you, Miss Granger, over the past two decades, I would have been miserably disappointed," Snape commented sardonically.

Hermione glowered.

Snape displayed his trademark sneer and continued dryly, "In case your enlarged mind was wondering, Miss Granger, the… dream you had was an illusion, and is most certainly real. I might be dead, Miss Granger, but I have not lost all my magical abilities such as conjuring a vision. However, I am most displeased about things besides being trapped in a portrait."

Here, Snape turned on an extremely skeptical look.

"You know, Miss Granger, better than to overstep my limits. You turned the dungeons into some fairy-tale room with glass windows, Miss Granger, _glass windows._ You slip a book out of my library and put in on the desk, not bothering to return it back to its original place. On top of that, you have even changed the sheets of my bed, Miss Granger, into red and gold. How _Gryffindor,_" Snape addressed in a low, calm voice, though the intense glare he gave Hermione was what you'd classify as murderous.

If looks could kill, this one certainly would kill Hermione.

She blushed again.

It was true that she had charmed some windows to light up the place (_Not to destroy the classroom,_ Hermione's shot back to non-existence in her mind), and it was also true that she had not returned the book (_But I would after finishing it, _Hermione snarled mentally) and that she had told Geri to refresh the bedspread.

"Well, Professor," Hermione started her rejoinder, her eyes sultry. "I own the chamber now, Professor, and I don't see why not. And the dark, intimidating dungeons are not a good study environment! You need light, Professor, so that –"

"As much as I would love to hear your well-reasoned response, Miss Granger," Snape interrupted in his silky menacing voice pointedly, "I would suggest not since I am about to give you a task."

"And what is the task!" Hermione screeched shrilly.

"Manners, Miss Granger," Snape smirked as he watched the near-exploding witch take deep, steadying breaths and closed her eyes.

"Much better."

Snape paused, looking for a reaction. Hermione remained still with her eyes closed.

"Albus suggested this to me, and if I hadn't thought you are capable enough, I would not have tried this, trust me, Miss Granger. As you know, I died because of Nagini's bite in the Final Battle, even though after my preventions so painstakingly applied, I was unable to survive," Snape recounted bitterly, though his eyes remained cold and black.

Hermione finally looked up.

"Hence, Miss Granger," he started silkily and Hermione felt that warmth under her navel again, and this time it seemed to pulse.

"I would like to send you back in time to save me."

It felt like the world had just stopped.

Like when the globe stood still.

Because that was what happened to Hermione, since her mind went blank and she had to blink several times before she remembered how to exhale.

She let out a long shaky breath, unaware that she was holding it.

"How?" she whispered.

"Slide the portrait sideways and cast the Revealing Charm. A vault will then become visible and you have to unlock it. Use the basic, unthinkable way of breaking locks."

Here, Snape paused and sent a petrifying stare towards Hermione. The black orbs seemed to be conveying something unspeakable.

"You will see a parchment and a ring. Wear that ring. The rest of the story will unfold itself," he ended the instructions with his velvet voice.

It took Hermione awhile to remember how to answer a person.

"How… how do you know I will do it?"

"Conscience, Miss Granger," Snape purred back.

Hermione sauntered to the portrait and examined the golden frames while Snape looked at her. Finally, she complied.

"Fine, I will do this."

Snape smirked.

Hermione didn't know what washed over her, but without warning, she tilted the portrait violently.

The pale face with the overlarge hooked nose was caught in shock as Snape slid sideways through the frame.

A muffled, incensed roar filled with rage exploded from the side of the picture met Hermione's ears.

"Miss Granger! You will pay for that, Miss Granger!"

Hermione grinned at the red backdrop, immensely satisfied.

And she sat down to think.

_That snarky fellow. Why should I agree?_

But Hermione was a sentimental person. She knew, deep down, she would give anything to save the Professor from his untimely demise.

There was a strange jerk below her heart. She gasped.

_I must be going nutters, fretting over such a thing. But Professor Snape didn't deserve to die, serving the Order and risking so much for the wizarding world._

And she bit on her lower lip.

_So what am I going to do?_

Her mind was resolved.

_I would save you, Professor; I would, even if my life is at stake._

Here, the familiar determined blaze was back in her eyes.

_And I have a feeling this will is unconditional._

And so, Hermione Granger got to work.


	6. Sent back

Hermione examined the golden frames and the red backdrop once more. Snape had told her to slide the portrait sideways without telling her which side. Knowing Snape's intense security, the portrait would probably explode or vanish if she went the wrong direction.

She paced to and fro across the room, twiddling her fingers whilst her mind whirred furiously.

She studied the illustration once more and replayed his instructions mentally._ Slide the portrait sideways and…_

She focused on the golden frames. There, she found something odd.

Dust covered all around the frame, except for one spot located down the left frame, still glittering in the bright chandelier light.

_Wait, _Hermione halted the stream of idea. _Just wait. This must have been touched recently. And whoever who had come into contact with this frame knew how to operate it. _

Hermione was about to slide it open when she found that she was unaware whether to push or pull the portrait. Wound up, she closely pored over the clean spot again. She caught sight of a faint, easy-neglected outline of a thumb.

_Whoever who touched them must have left their fingerprint on it, but to leave an outline means he or she must have wrestled with the portrait, _Hermione reasoned.

_This also means that the portrait was pulled with a formidable amount of strength. After all, pushing requires much lesser strength than pulling. _

Hermione latched her fingers on to the clean spot. She tugged at the frames, which remained still and unmoving. She glowered at it and pulled the portrait towards the left side once more. It didn't move.

Finally, a panting Hermione duplicated herself and attempted shifting the cumbersome portrait once more. She had no idea Snape had returned to that very portrait and was concealed behind the red backdrop, smirking as he watched her.

"Geminio! Geminio! Geminio!" Hermione rasped, collapsing onto the soft bed as she stared at the three more replicas of her forming from mists emitted by her wand tip.

The five Hermiones now heaved the portrait with all their might. It creaked and budged a little. With the continued wrenching, it slowly moved to reveal a blank piece of wall.

"Great, excellent…" Hermione wheezed and Vanished the replicas of her.

_Now what?_ Hermione growled inwardly as she struggled to catch her breath, wiping away the sheen of perspiration formed on her forehead.

_Cast a revealing charm. _

"Revelio," Hermione muttered, her wand twirled flawlessly. A part of the wall sunk backwards as a black shade broadened on the patch of the wall. A single latch protruded from the opening and a lock dangling on it rattled several times.

"Let's see, Professor Snape told me to unbolt it by using the most _basic, unthinkable way _of breaking locks," Hermione rambled on, completely lost in the vast sea of thoughts.

"And how am I supposed to do know what basic, unthinkable ways of disengage locks there are?"

She was no excess law-breaker, and had never once in her life attempted break-ins. She also knew that basic unlocking charms were an abortive idea since she was aware, by the experience of breaking Snape's wards, that he was not a person who let his guard down easily. His protection resembled constant sentinels, and to get past Severus Snape was something that the rudiments cannot handle.

Hermione decided it was too late in the night to contact George Weasley, by owl or Floo. The sky, from the looks of the chamber's windows, was now a deep indigo, with scanty amount of stars scattered across the sky. The moonlight was faint, though the soft, yellow glow lighted the Hogwart's grounds just sufficiently.

Hermione exhaled resignedly and was about to head towards Snape's colossal, circular library when her curls became undone. Scowling, she picked up the sharp hairpin with a glittering dolphin attached to the end and was about to fix her hairdo back when her eyes lit up.

_The simplest way of unlocking bolts… by picking! The Muggle way the most unthinkable of picking locks!_

Hermione stared up at the empty red backdrop of the portrait, failing to see Snape's well-obscured self.

_I hope it works. Knowing Professor Snape… the thing would probably blast into minute bits and pieces._

Uttering a silent prayer, Hermione slid her glitter encrusted hairpin into the vault's main keyhole. There was a heavy creaking sound as Hermione heard the bars padlocking the opening shift and the black door of the vault swung open.

"At least you have an ounce of brains," Snape breathed, his eyes glittering as he surveyed Hermione behind the dusty red curtains.

Hermione's eyes widened as she scrutinised the insides of the vault. There was indeed a piece of parchment and a ring.

Hermione carefully fished out the two items, laid them on the bed before she sealed the vault and warded it with her own signature. As soon as the vault door slammed close and the portrait was back in place (it shifted itself automatically), she picked up the two items and placed them on the large, mahogany desktop Snape positioned behind the couch.

Sitting on the amply-cushioned chair, she inspected the materials. The parchment was a blank, dirty yellow, a little torn at the sides but otherwise untouched. The ring in stunning silver, its flamboyant appearance amplified by the diamond extravagantly affixed in the middle of the ring, a letter "S" engraved in the middle.

Hermione looped a few her curls around her fingers as she wandered into the depths of her mind.

The Potions Master had told nothing about how she should regard the two items, except that the rest of the story would _unfold itself_.

Hermione could have snorted.

She decided to revisit the portrait.

Entering the bed chamber once more, Hermione approached the portrait with fastened striking golden frames. There was no Potions Master sneering at her down from his place in front of the red backdrop.

Hermione sighed heavily.

"Professor?" Hermione called out tentatively. "Professor Snape, can you come out for a moment?"

There was still no billowing of robes and Severus Snape.

After a few fruitless but vehement efforts to urge the Potions Master to emerge, Hermione exited the room, frowning as she mumbled darkly about snarky teachers and obstructive, disobliging Potions Masters.

Snape strode out of the only egress among the red curtains once Hermione departed, smirking lightly. Taunting that spitfire of a witch had been extremely enticing.

"And now, Miss Granger, we see how bright you really are," he drawled softly, treading out of the portrait, intending to spend the rest of the night in Albus Dumbledore's office.

Back at the couches, Hermione sat cross-legged and folded her arms tightly, almost on the verge of uttering blasphemy towards saving the Professor's life. As she eyed the soothing ambiance around her, Hermione's black look darkened when she found herself jammed in this situation.

There was a very sudden trill floating towards Hermione from far away, momentarily interrupting her chain of thoughts and jolting her to senses abruptly. Hermione whirled round to find Fawkes soaring through her quarters by the fireplace and it flew round the room, finally bringing an end to her circling and perching on Hermione's shoulders, her tail blazing in a fiery orange shade.

"You… you want me to go with you?"

Fawkes let out a quavering note as she lifted her beady eyes to stare at the fireplace just as Hermione widened her eyes, realisation dawning on her. "Incendio," Hermione murmured after drawing her wand and the fireplace was instantly ablaze with dancing fire.

Hermione opened one drawer below the mahogany desktop. There was a container of greenish residue filled to the brim. She grabbed a handful, tossed it in the fireplace and promptly seized the two objects before stepping through the fireplace.

"Dumbledore's office," Hermione declared firmly, as she plunged downwards within the sizzling green flames before it vanished.

Hermione arrived at the Headmaster's office with a _whoosh_.

She stepped out of the fireplace and Scourgified her sooty self with a flick of her wand.

"Headmaster," Hermione addressed, refusing to meet her former Potion's Master's eyes. "Thank you for sending Fawkes when I needed aid. I believe I have found two items that will intrigue you."

"Indeed, indeed," the benign wizard murmured, stroking Fawkes' tail.

Hermione conscientiously set the two objects on Dumbledore's desktop and started her elucidation.

"There were fingerprints on the frame… you don't suppose that's Professor Snape, do you, Headmaster?"

"No, it was me after taking several bottles of Strengthening Drought. Please continue," Dumbledore indicated, looking through his half-moon glasses at Hermione, listening and nodding in agreement as Hermione preached on.

"I have retrieved the two items but not knowing my next intended action. Thereafter, Fawkes turned up and sort of brought me to your office. I travelled using Professor Snape's Floo powder."

The Headmaster observed Hermione before he answered heavily.

"Hermione, you remember the Hat's song, do you?"

"Yes, Headmaster."

Dumbledore raised his wand as the familiar melody met Hermione's ears.

_Now that my song is half done,  
there will be a selected one.  
Sent to swirl back in the past,  
revive the brave serpent; correct his cast.  
The Lioness and Serpent will then link,  
save the catastrophe from its brink.  
One chance, one odd and one end,  
choose carefully the choice to fend._

The Hat's voice faded slowly away.

"Do you feel you can explain this now?"

"Yes, yes I can, Headmaster," Hermione breathed. "I will be going back in time to the time where, I presume, Voldemort is garnering reign over the wizarding world, also during the time that Ron, Harry and I might be searching for Horcruxes. I will, er, connect with Professor Snape… somehow, I don't know how –"

Hermione turned a nice scarlet shade here.

"And thereafter I am supposed to save Professor Snape from Nagini. There will only be one go at this, and if I fail…"

Hermione tailed off, unable to continue as tears brimmed her eyes.

"That is correct, Hermione," Dumbledore paused, and continued, "Severus is a valiant asset to the wizarding society. Though shunned, he is far most one of the bravest man I've seen, Hermione. Risking his life as a spy, developing the elixir to revive me… He should be alive, even if not bathed in glory, taking a new fresh life."

"I will do it, Headmaster. But… how will I get sent back in time? I would need a time-altering device, like a time-turner… Have you registered with the Ministry?"

"No. You will not be using the time-turner, Hermione. This ring," Dumbledore replied, lifting the ring and rinsing it in the dim yellow lightings. "Wear this and it will transport you to the projected time-frame. You will, er, stumble upon a meeting between me and Severus. I am expecting you, but not Severus and it is natural instinct that you have to face up to. I cannot determine if I am able to er, swerve things, since I would most likely be in a portrait myself then."

Hermione paled. Knowing Snape, he might probably hex her first then interrogate. She fervently wished to be successfully recognised by him…

The Headmaster's eyes twinkled. Hermione coloured slightly, deciding to amend the conversation topic.

"But… but a time-turner? Aren't all time-altering objects monitored by the Ministry? Does this mean the Ministry approved this?"

"No, Hermione. This matter is strictly confidential, and it is my wish that you would keep it clandestine. It would not do to have everyone well-aware of your presence to aid Severus along, or it would be catastrophe. As for the ring itself, it is a Snape heirloom. You can be rest assured that it would do no wrong."

"I'm just asking… what if…" Hermione trailed off as the Snape in the portrait shot her a furtive, vicious look.

"Miss Granger, are you insinuating that my magical abilities are not up to scratch? Or that I would put you in a nasty predicament on purpose?"

"No… no, Professor," Hermione mumbled, reddening.

"I suggest you to be comprehensible and fast because my defenses kicking in is a plausible reaction, and I would not tolerate whining witches," Snape purred, the corners of his mouth curled.

Hermione struggled to compress the boiling rage. She ogled at the Headmaster's desktop as if it were the most fascinating article. She caught sight of the blank piece of parchment and hastily pointed it out.

"Ah yes, Hermione. My old self would what precisely to do with it," Dumbledore responded, his beard twitching visibly.

"I think, Hermione, it's time for you to venture on now. But before this, I would like to add on to the previous information given. You would, after the crucial event, fall unconscious for a short period of time. There, you will meet the younger version of yourself in an unidentifiable place. Because two of you cannot exist at the same time, one of you will need to, as we call it, move on. If you stay in that era, then of course, I think Mr Weasley and Harry would understand if you explained."

With his prominent beam and his eyes shining again, Dumbledore sent Hermione off.

"Take care," he said softly, concern lining his wrinkled features.

Hermione met Snape's eyes as she slid her finger into the silver ring. Snape gave her a nod, before he drawled, "Carry on, Miss Granger."

Once the ring was secured, she felt herself plummet deeper into the ground, swirling through different events of her life… She perceived herself while roaming through the last decade… Her on the Hogwarts Express; breaking up with Ron; Ron and her bickering; her graduation from Hogwarts; the Final Battle with Voldemort experiencing his downfall; Snape bitten by Nagini… And suddenly there were no more images but colours… Diverse, unique tinges flashing around her and she seemed to feel faint…

Hermione felt herself hit solid ground with a thundering slam that made her eardrums throb, something which caused her to clap her hands to her ears.

"Stupefy!"

Hermione heard that silken tone cast the spell before everything went black.


	7. Chapter 7

Hello my dear readers(:

I have decided to make time out of whatever I can to continue Saving Snape, but I am continuing on another account called "blueapple-lady".

Go to my webpage in fanfiction: .net/~blueapplelady

And yups, I look forward to see you guys reviewing and reading my story.

Thank you very much(:


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